Wonderwall
by BluEyes
Summary: Rachel goes back to the bar in TOW the flashback, putting a slight spin on the rest of the series-including Mondler. Randler.
1. Prologue

**Wonderwall**

**Prologue**

~.~

_I started this ages ago. And by ages, I mean 7 months ago. This idea came to me when I was driving and heard the song _Wonderwall _by Oasis. And, actually, I had intended my idea and title to go towards a Mondler fic. But…well…Mondler has been done. Randler is mostly uncharted territory. And, I've been working on this for awhile but had wanted to wait until I was done with _Standard Lines_ to start posting it, but…I'm impatient. Like, ridiculously impatient. Like, I rival a 5-year-old in impatience. So…here goes nothing. Enjoy :)_

~.~

_And after all,_

_You're my wonderwall_

-_Wonderwall_, Oasis

**~.~2001~.~**

Chandler all but gasped when he walked into Joey's living room (formerly his living room) to find Rachel sitting in one of the Barca Loungers. She looked up with surprise equal to his, though neither of them could be certain why. He had known she was coming into town; she had gone to Joey's hoping to see him. Maybe it was the shock of the situation. The way they had left things with each other, neither had intended to see the other ever again.

"I'm just gonna…" Joey trailed off, awkwardly pointing to the door before walking out, leaving them in a silence that the word "awkward" failed to scratch the surface of.

Rachel took a deep breath, watching the door slam shut. She looked at the familiar etch-a-sketch on the door, wondering whose phone number was written on it before shifting her gaze to the refrigerator magnets, doing anything to keep her mind busy, and to keep her from having this conversation with him. What conversation was there to have, anyway? The last time she had seen him, they had both been in tears, screaming at each other, throwing out words they would eat moments later.

What conversation was there left to have, even after all this time?

Chandler finally cleared his throat, and Rachel looked up, meeting his eye. As a sudden rush of emotion overtook her, she found herself grasping onto her purse in her lap so tightly her knuckles turned white, trying to do anything but drown in the emotions that staring into his blue eyes washed over her. Given his silence, she was at least relieved to find him at the same lack of words as she was.

Scuffing his foot along the ground, Chandler broke eye contact. Taking a breath, he licked his lips before speaking, looking back up at her when he did so. "I, uh, I didn't get married," he finally said, speaking barely above a whisper.

"So I heard," Rachel nodded, speaking quietly as well. "I got a job in New York. I'm moving back here."

"So I heard," Chandler echoed her earlier response, but the room again went eerily silent after.

"Look-"

"I'm-"

They both began speaking at once, resulting in an awkward smile and laugh from each. Rachel then stood up, setting her purse on the chair as she crossed the room to where Chandler was standing, still near the door.

"I just wanted to say that…I'm sorry for everything I said two years ago. I didn't mean it. I-"

Chandler cut her off, shaking his head. "I know. I'm sorry, too. For everything."

Rachel nodded in acceptance, holding back tears. God, how was his mere presence bringing tears to her eyes? "I don't know that leaving made anything better," she finally added, now only a step from him.

"I don't know that you staying would have made anything better, either," Chandler shrugged helplessly. They both again stared at one another in silence before Chandler took the remaining step, closing the gap between them as he encircled her in his arms. Rachel closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around his neck, still trying not to drown in the emotions he always seemed to evoke. "I miss you," he whispered, and Rachel didn't fail to notice it was present tense, not past tense. He didn't stop missing her; he still did. Did that mean when he was about to get married he still missed her, or just now that he wasn't getting married he missed her? She tried to let that thought remain fleeting, not wanting to dwell on it too long.

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut even tighter, wishing away the tears she knew were going to come through in her voice. "I miss you, too," she finally choked out, still clinging to him, not wanting the hug to end, because when it did, they would have no choice but to talk about the past.

And that was the one thing she had spent the past two years trying to forget: The past. Or, rather, _their_ past.

~.~

_In case you haven't noticed, I pretty much love writing mysterious prologues :) Reviews, please and thanks :)_


	2. Chapter 1

**Wonderwall**

**Chapter 1**

~.~

_Today, is gonna be the day_

_That they're gonna throw it back to you_

-Wonderwall_, Oasis_

**~.~1993 ~.~**

Chandler pulled the door to the bar shut behind him, having left a few minutes after Monica since he had been chatting with the bartender still when she headed home. As he walked out the door and started to turn the corner, though, someone caught his eye. Doing a double take, he turned back towards her, stopping dead in his tracks when she made eye contact, her smile widening as she got closer to him, quickening her pace to catch up.

"Forget something in there?" he asked hesitantly, unsure of why Rachel's presence made him so nervous. He'd seen her leave with her friends at least two hours earlier, and found it odd that she would be returning to the city so late and alone.

"I, um, no," she shook her head, taking another step closer to him, now standing slightly too close. If he hadn't hit on her earlier, he might have been bothered by the invasion of his personal bubble. Rachel was a welcomed intruder, though. "You know, uh, you know that thing that I was talking about earlier?" she finally said softly, trying to keep how nervous she was out of her voice. Daydream Rachel had been so sure of her actions, why couldn't Real Life Rachel be?

Chandler suddenly struggled to breathe. She couldn't possibly be suggesting what he thought she was suggesting. He usually didn't have the best luck with women, and therefore was not the best at reading them (or was it the other way around?), but it seemed she was suggesting what he thought she was suggesting. "I-I,um, I don't know," Chandler struggled to choke out. He was surely dreaming. She couldn't possibly be suggesting what he half-hoped, half-feared she was suggesting.

"You know, right before you dropped your," Rachel leaned in even closer, placing a hand on his chest, speaking softly, "ball?"

Oh, dear god, she was suggesting what he thought she was suggesting. She wanted to be flung. Oh, god, she wanted to be flung. She was drunk, right? She had to be drunk. She was so far out of his league he had no hopes of ever even making it to her league. His team would never even play her team just for fun. Oh, but now her hand was trailing down his chest. Trailing down his stomach. And now-

"Wha-what are-" Chandler began sputtering out, but was quickly cut off by Rachel's soft and perfectly manicured fingertips against his lips.

"I don't want to speak, I don't want to think," she whispered against his neck as she leaned in, trying to find the courage to make what she wanted to happen actually happen. It had been so easy when it was all a daydream. Now, after returning to the city after dropping her friends off (and having a good six drinks at another bar down the street before drumming up the courage to see if Chandler was still there), it wasn't nearly as easy. Had she really just planned out cheating on her fiancé? Not only planned out, but followed through with it? She had. And she wanted this. God, did she want this. "I just want you to take me," she spoke slowly and softly, her hot breath against his neck chasing all reason out the window, "and kiss me, and-"

Apparently that was all the convincing Chandler needed, as his lips came crashing down on hers, kissing her passionately. Rachel kissed back, wrapping her arms around his neck, not even vaguely aware that they were still standing in the middle of the sidewalk. When Chandler pulled back, she looked at him apprehensively, afraid he was going to stop and try to play the whole voice of reason card with her.

"I know there will probably be numerous times in your life when you look back at this moment and regret me saying this," he paused, giving her a lop-sided smile. "But, if I don't say it, I know there would be numerous times in my life that I would look back at this moment and regret **not** saying it, so," he took a deep breath, staring into her eyes, "I live upstairs," he finished huskily, barely in a whisper, his face inches from hers.

Rachel's lips curled into a smile as she reached down, taking his hand. Chandler smiled at that, knowing he probably shouldn't be doing this, but not caring at all at that moment. He wanted to ask her if she even remembered him. They had met on numerous occasions at the Geller's, and he had even drunkenly attempted to make out with her in college. But asking any questions pertaining to reason would ruin this…whatever this was. It was magical. It was electrical. It was completely physical.

It was completely wrong.

And they were walking. Through the door. Up the stairs. Rachel was only vaguely aware that Chandler seemed to be in a hurry once they were inside, fumbling with his keys as he pushed open his front door, locking and chaining it behind them. And then they were kissing again, and Rachel melted into it, wondering if the passion that was there but seemed to lack between Barry and herself was only because this act was so wrong. Kissing Chandler made it hard to keep Barry on her mind, though, as they moved across the living room to the couch, not even making it to the bedroom.

~.~

Rachel snuggled beside Chandler on his brown couch, both of them breathing heavily as they struggled to recover. She looked down at their hands entwined, and for the first time that night, she was hit with a rush of guilt over her actions. This, though, felt too surreal to be completely wrong. His apartment was so much different than the lavish house she lived in with Barry. His goatee was in sharp contrast to how Barry was always clean-shaven. It was like comparing beer to fine wine; both have their place and time.

Closing her eyes as Chandler reached for the blanket behind the couch, Rachel cuddled up to him, letting herself fall asleep in the arms of a man who was not the one she was going to marry.

~.~

Chandler woke up at four in the morning. Naked. And alone. And confused. Did that really just happen with Rachel?

Blinking a few times before looking around, he first glanced towards the bathroom, but the light wasn't on. He then glanced at the door, and noticed it was now unlocked. She had left. Of course she had left. She was getting married. She felt guilty. She had just wanted to be flung. Oh, and he had flung her alright. God, he had flung her…. Chandler smiled at that. He really hadn't been with that many women, but he was sure, without a doubt, that that had been great. Amazing. Phenomenal. Maybe because it was so wrong?

Oh, it was so wrong….

Trying to wrap his head around the situation one more time, he gave up, standing up and heading towards his bedroom. If Monica thought she would never see Rachel again in her life, what were the chances he would ever run into her again, either?

No harm, no foul. No reason to feel guilty. He'd most likely never see her again anyway.

And there were countless times in the future he would be kicking himself over that exact reasoning….

**~.~2001~.~**

Chandler was the one to finally loosen his arms from around Rachel, knowing that, as badly as he wanted it to, the hug couldn't last forever. He wasn't sure why he had done it, either, but it had been a dangerous move, one that had sent his mind racing through the six years of his life that included Rachel, and the past two he had spent pretending he didn't miss her.

When Chandler loosened his arms around her, Rachel pulled back slightly, awkwardly unsure of if she should make eye contact or avoid it, the feeling of being in Chandler's arms again bringing back too many memories to handle at once.

Avoiding eye contact it was.

Chandler took a step backwards, needing to distance himself from Rachel in order to think clearly. They needed to talk. Where would he even start, though?

"Coffee?" he finally whispered, and Rachel looked up, hesitantly meeting his eye. She bit her bottom lip. God, he loved when she bit her bottom lip. She was nervous. Unsure.

Nodding, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Another action proving how nervous she was just being around him. "Coffee would be good," she whispered in reply, figuring going somewhere for coffee was as good of start as any. "Coffee would be good…."

~.~

_It's not ALL going to make sense for quite a while; just thought I'd warn you now. It will eventually, though, promise! And I always follow through with my promises, which I'm sure you've noticed._

_Thanks for the reviews of the first chapter, and keep it up, please :)_


	3. Chapter 2

**Wonderwall**

**Chapter 2**

~.~

_I will be continuing _Standard Lines_ soon. I'm just not completely pleased with the current chapter, but, once I am, I will post it. Just so ya know :)_

_Thanks for the reviews! My apologies if you don't enjoy the confusion…it will all make sense eventually. At least, I hope so, haha. Also, I don't own the lyrics to _Wonderwall_. Just in case there was any confusion as to that, ha. And, I don't own the characters or any storylines I borrow from _Friends_, although, after nine years, I'd might as well, since that's almost as long as the show was on. :)_

~.~

_And all the roads we have to walk along are winding_

_And all the lights that lead us there are blinding_

**~.~1994~.~**

Chandler walked back over to Monica's apartment, hoping he would find Rachel still awake and that Monica wouldn't have come back with Paul. Trying the door, he smiled at the fact that it was unlocked, hoping that meant she was still up. He was right, and as he closed the door quietly behind him, he smiled at Rachel, who was sitting on the couch in her pajamas, lights turned out, watching TV.

"Hey," he smiled slightly, walking over to where she was seated.

"Hey," she replied, smiling at him as he sat beside her. "I didn't get married today," she stated, completely neutral, making eye contact for a split-second before looking away.

"Yea," Chandler replied quietly. "Are you…okay?"

Rachel sighed, sinking further into the couch. "Yea, I am. I just," she shook her head, trying to clear it, "I just keep sitting here, trying to remember when and if I ever loved him. I mean, I would think that, at some point in time, I did, but," she again sighed heavily. "I don't remember ever _actually_ loving him."

"Hey, at least you figured that out today and not tomorrow," Chandler offered.

Rachel laughed slightly at that. "No kidding." Her smile soon turned to a frown, though. "Why didn't I realize it sooner, though? I mean, how could I have not realized this weeks ago, or months ago…."

"Or, say, a year ago?" Chandler asked hesitantly, not sure if he should bring up what he knew they had both been thinking about.

Rachel nodded. "Something like that," she replied before shifting her attention back to the TV screen.

"Hey, um, while we're avoiding the subject," Chandler laughed awkwardly. "It's not going to be weird, like, us hanging out together, right? Because we all pretty much do that all the time…."

Rachel's lips turned up in a slight smile at that, though she was still looking at the screen. Her voice feigned innocence at the subject, but her eyes told a different story as she turned towards him. "And why, exactly, would it be weird?"

Chandler played along. "No idea," he shrugged, leaning back into the couch as he turned his attention towards the TV screen, feeling that holding the playful eye contact could end in disaster.

"You didn't tell anyone, did you?" Rachel finally asked, again looking at the TV and not at him.

"Nope."

"Not even Monica?"

"Not even Monica," Chandler shook his head. "Hell, I wasn't sure it even happened! I mean, I woke up, and you were gone, and it was all so…ya know?"

"Yea," Rachel smiled, turning towards him again. "I do know."

Chandler smiled at that, holding eye contact with her, wondering if her thoughts at that moment were centered around that night as well. This was dangerous territory; he shouldn't have come over.

"I should-I should probably go," Chandler whispered, and both of them knew he didn't mean it, but were slightly afraid of what, exactly, would happen if he stayed any longer. "Me and Joey are just right across the hall, if you need anything," he added as an afterthought, pointing to the door as he stood up to leave.

"Hey, um, Chandler?"

Chandler stopped, already half-way to the door, turning to face her.

"Thank you," she smiled sincerely, and he knew the thank you was not for coming over to check on her that night.

Chandler returned her smile, hesitating before deciding leaving was the right thing to do. Today would have been her wedding day, after all. That would make it even more wrong than before. "I'll see you later, Rachel," he finally said, letting the moment between them linger a few seconds more before finally turning to leave.

**~.~_2001_~.~**

"So, um, Central Perk?" Rachel asked as she walked back over to the chair, picking up her purse.

"Mmm," Chandler looked at her uncertainly, and it took her a moment to realize why.

"You don't want to go to Central Perk and possibly run into Monica," Rachel finally deduced, and Chandler smiled slightly.

"I don't want to go to Central Perk and possibly run into Monica…with you," he added quietly, honestly, and Rachel respected that, not having any desire to run into her either. Especially not with him.

"Well, it's New York," Rachel shrugged, heading towards the door, trying to brush off the uncomfortable air that bringing up Monica's name had caused. "I'm sure we'll find some place to have coffee," she added, now standing beside Chandler once more.

It took Chandler a moment to pull himself together standing so close to her again. When she was that close, it took all of his will power, even after all that time, not to kiss her. God, there was still a part of him that really wanted to kiss her.

Chandler took a deep breath, brushing off that thought before nodding, reaching out to open the door, and holding it open as they both walked out. They both silently held their breath as they left, hoping Monica wouldn't be out in the hall as they passed through it, neither wanting to run into her with the other.

~.~

_Quick reviews = quick update :) Please and thanks_


	4. Chapter 3

**Wonderwall**

**Chapter 3**

**~.~**

_Um…still working on the next chapter for _Standard Lines_. I've been working ridiculous hours lately and wedding planning. And I'm going out of town this weekend, so if I don't update again tomorrow, I won't be back until Monday. I'll try to update one of my fics tomorrow, though, but no promises._

_Thanks for the reviews so far! I know this may continue to be confusing, but it will eventually tie together quite nicely and will all make sense :)_

**~.~**

_There are many things that I would_

_Like to say to you_

_But I don't know how…_

**~.~1995~.~**

Lips crashed against lips, hands wandering in ways that they had been yearning to wander for months, though both involved had been holding back. Not so much as a word had been murmured about the incident between them a year earlier. Not a loaded look had been given. But, that didn't mean that feelings lingering from that night hadn't still been felt, or that moments from that night hadn't been relived when eyes met from across the living room or coffeehouse from time-to-time.

They had been avoiding moments alone for reasons pertaining to this. Neither of them trusted themselves with the other, even though that One Night had been only one night, and had been over a year earlier

God, it had been one hell of a night, though. And, still, maybe it only seemed like such because it was so wrong. And maybe that One Night was only a fun one to go back to in their memory from time-to-time because it was one that they shouldn't relive.

That day, things between them had begun innocently enough, though. Chandler hadn't knocked coming in the front door as Rachel was coming out of the bathroom from showering. This was nothing out of the ordinary for Chandler; he never knocked when going over to Monica's. However, in the past few months, Monica's had also become Rachel's. And Rachel was someone he did not need to walk in on naked.

Rather, Rachel was someone he could not be trusted to walk in on naked.

When he had looked up, hearing her come out of the bathroom, and saw her, naked other than a towel around her waist, she had screamed at him for invading her privacy, perhaps a bit too upset for what the situation warranted. She screamed at him for not knocking. She screamed at him for seeing her naked.

Really, though, she screamed at him because she recognized the look on his face as one she had seen from him before.

He had tried to come closer to her and apologize, but she just yelled some more and backed away, clinging to a blanket she snatched from the back of the couch. And then, chest rising and falling quickly, both nervous and slightly embarrassed, she had taken a half a step towards Chandler. And with that half a step, permission seemed to have been given, and he took half a step closer, as well.

And there they stood, in the middle of her living room, inches apart, eyes locked, each daring the other to make the first move, neither one wanting to be the one that did so.

And then they were kissing, hard, fervently, Chandler's hands on either side of Rachel's face, the blanket she had clutched to cover herself up still between them. And then his hands were on either side of her bare hips, and just the feeling of his skin on hers sent chills up her spine.

They probably shouldn't be doing this. Though they never really hung out alone together since Rachel moved in with Monica, they had definitely crossed into the "Friend Zone." And this sort of thing didn't really fit with that. And no explanation for their behavior if caught would make sense other than the truth about the past, which neither wanted to own up to.

And then, Rachel heard the sound of the door opening.

Rachel pushed Chandler away, grasping the blanket in front of her body. "Bastard!" she yelled as Monica entered the room, and head spinning, it took him a moment to comprehend what Rachel was doing. "You just barge in here, you never even knock," she continued her earlier rant.

Chandler licked his lips, willing himself to speak, needing to play along. "Rach, I'm sorry," he finally said, Monica watching, arms crossed in amusement.

"Hey, um, Rach, that's a very open blanket," Monica motioned to her chest, figuring Rachel would appreciate her letting her know her breasts were still very visible, and Rachel looked down, realizing what Monica was getting at.

"Ugh!" she exclaimed towards Chandler before turning dramatically, stomping off to her room.

Chandler watched her for a moment, trying to pull himself together, before turning towards Monica.

"It wouldn't kill you to knock you know," Monica laughed, and Chandler just shrugged, heading towards the door, knowing that if Monica were to leave the room, he couldn't be trusted not to follow Rachel into her room and finish what they had just started.

**~.~2001~.~**

Chandler and Rachel sat in a coffeehouse a few blocks away from their former building, doing anything but looking at one another and talking. Rachel stirred her coffee in front of her, though the sweetener she had put in it was long dissolved. She feared what making eye contact would mean. She feared what having a real conversation with Chandler would mean.

Really, she feared being around him again, still not quite trusting herself, his effect on her, even after all this time.

"So," Chandler cleared his throat, looking up nervously, and Rachel slowly met his eye.

"So," she repeated, sighing heavily.

They stared at one another for a moment, and Chandler finally allowed himself to smile slightly at the fact that he could still just let himself get lost in her eyes. God, there had been so many times in the past that he had done just that...

"What?" Rachel smiled in return, and she allowed herself to momentarily get lost in the past with him until he shook his head, looking down as he broke the eye contact. Nothing good ever came of their "moments," or rather, what their moments would surely lead to.

"Nothing," he whispered, and Rachel watched him for a moment, picking at the edge of his napkin on the table. "I told Monica."

Rachel took a deep breath; she already knew that. "I gathered that much," she finally said, having a hard time getting any kind of sentence to form. They were really going to have this conversation. So much for making small talk. "How much…exactly…did you tell her?" Rachel asked slowly, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

"Not details, but…everything," he admitted, looking down, wondering why admitting his admittance to Rachel was so hard.

"Everything?" Rachel asked, and Chandler looked up, smiling slightly at the small smile on her lips, knowing every thought running through her head at that word.

"Well, not _everything_…."


	5. Chapter 4

**Wonderwall **

**Chapter 4**

~.~

_I went back and labeled flashbacks/forwards with years, so hopefully that will help a bit with the confusion. I also realize this could still be confusing…but if you're reading here, I'm assuming you're a diehard _Friends_ fan, and I'm really hoping you can follow the timeline without me explicitly explaining which episodes scenes are pulled from. I hope. If not…Hm, I'll have to figure something else out._

_Anyway, thanks for the review! They are much appreciated! I came back from vacation to an inbox full of reviews and messages from you guys, so thank you for that!_

**~.~**

_There are many things that I would_

_Like to say to you_

_I don't know how_

**~.~1995~.~**

"You shouldn't have said anything to Monica and Phoebe about that dream about me," Chandler laughed, trying to catch his breath, Rachel's head lying on his bare chest, which was rising and falling rapidly.

"And why is that?" Rachel asked, looking up at him playfully, trying to catch her own breath. She smiled when he leaned down to kiss her, running a hand through her hair as he did so.

"Because you know they can't keep their mouths shut about something like that," he mumbled, kissing her again

"Right," Rachel laughed as she pulled back, "and they're the ones who forced you to force the details out of me…and then forced you to actually act it out."

"Hey, I'm a man," Chandler attempted to defend himself. "I can't be held accountable for any stupid actions pertaining to a beautiful woman I've slept with in the past…."

Rachel shook her head, sitting up. "Yes, it's all my fault," Rachel replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"It is _all_ your fault," Chandler grinned. "You explained your dream in too vivid of detail _not_ to recreate it…."

"I'll take the blame," Rachel finally conceded with a shrug, "_if_ you can tell me there weren't at least a dozen times in the past few months that you haven't had those exact same thoughts," she challenged him, scooting to the edge of his bed to grab for her clothes.

Chandler reached out for her hand, pulling her back down. "Oh, no, don't go yet," he shook his head, and she let him pull her back down, laying on her side facing him. "And you know I've had those exact same thoughts…especially after the boobies incident-"

"That one was your fault, by the way," Rachel interrupted him.

"Eh, I still blame you. It was your fault for being so naked," he shook his head, causing Rachel to roll her eyes. "And you kissed me."

Rachel shook her head. "You most definitely kissed me," she scoffed.

"Not important. But anyway, it's probably a bad idea to continue to act on said thoughts, no matter whose fault they are…."

"And why is that, exactly?" Rachel asked, playing with his fingers between hers, letting them glide between them before squeezing them tightly.

_Because Ross is in love with you_, Chandler replied in his head, a sudden wave of guilt at that thought. Of course, he couldn't tell her that. "Because we're friends," Chandler finally pointed out, as if that should have been obvious. "Because there's no way of explaining this," he motioned between them, "without explaining what's happened in the past. Because…" he trailed off, trying to find another reason to counteract how much he didn't care about Ross's feelings at the moment when he had a very naked Rachel beside him. Very naked? As if there were different degrees of nakedness for Rachel to be? Yes, that was the point to be focusing on….

"Because, it's all just physical?" Rachel finally added, though it sounded more like a question than a reason.

"And that," Chandler nodded. Yes, physical. It was all just physical. No feelings, just physical. Ross had feelings for Rachel. He, on the other hand, was only physically attracted to her. "So, we just won't let the physical part get the best of us again, right?" Chandler finally asked, needing confirmation that the temptation would be gone.

Rachel leaned closer, so that their faces were only centimeters apart, before whispering, "Right."

Chandler stared into her eyes for a moment before placing a hand on the back of her head, closing the gap between them as he slowly kissed her again.

Well, so much for that….

~.~

"Rule number one," Rachel started, still cuddled beside Chandler, both of them still naked. Very naked. "No telling anyone, in any way shape or form. Including jokingly," she added, to which Chandler rolled his eyes, knowing that part had been for his benefit.

"Rule number two," he continued. "It's just sex."

"Just sex," Rachel agreed. "Just friends with benefits."

"That's a good label for it," Chandler nodded.

"Rule three," Rachel continued, "No cheating on significant others with said friend with benefits."

"Agreed," Chandler again nodded. "Is that really what time it is?" he asked, looking at the clock behind her.

Rachel rolled over looking at the clock as well. "Rule number four: no spending the night," she added off of that.

Chandler stared at her for a moment, in slight disbelief they had just set ground rules for this...fling. Affair. Whatever it was.

"And off rule number four," Rachel trailed off, and Chandler nodded, watching as she slowly climbed out of his bed, picking her clothes up from the ground and dressing quickly. She turned around, smiling slightly, well aware that he had been watching. "Goodnight," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him once more.

"'Night," Chandler replied after pulling back. Rachel hesitated slightly before walking away, glancing back only once before slipping out his door and quietly making her way across his living room to her own apartment.

**~.~2001~.~**

Rachel continued to stare at Chandler as they sat at the coffeehouse, almost laughing at how vague he was being about what, exactly, he told Monica. "Since, uh, since you don't have a ring on your left ring finger, do I even need to ask how Monica took this 'everything' that you told her?" she finally asked.

Chandler laughed slightly at that, and Rachel smiled. God, she had always loved his smile, and that had been the first genuine smile she had seen that day. Since it had been so long since she'd seen him, it was actually the first time she'd seen him smile in years. God, she missed his smile...

And his eyes. Staring into his eyes, she realized that. He had the prettiest eyes, eyes no one else's she had met could quite live up to. God, she missed his eyes...

And, if she were to be brutally honest with herself, a part of her still very much missed him. His eyes and smile were barely grazing the surface of what she missed about him.

"No," he finally sighed, forcing another laugh as he shook his head, breaking eye contact as he looked down at the coffee cup in front of him. "No, you don't even need to ask…."


	6. Chapter 5

**Wonderwall**

**Chapter 5**

~.~

_Let's try this chapter again...Thanks, Exintaris, for letting me know it didn't work the first time..._

_Thanks again for the reviews! I've had a terrible bladder infection for the past week (too much info?) that won't go away, so I'm pretty darn miserable, and reviews make my day a lot better. For real. :)_

_Also, I have the last few chapters of _Standard Lines _in the works…just so ya know….Hopefully I'll be updating that soon, as well, but…I kind of got on a roll with this one yesterday._

~.~

_And maybe_

_You're gonna be the one who saves me_

**~.~1995~.~**

Rachel threw open the door to the guy's apartment with a vengeance, Chandler dropping the glass he had been filling with water in the sink. It landed with a solid thunk, though it didn't shatter, the noise filling the otherwise silent apartment. He took in Rachel's haggard appearance, still in what she had worn to work earlier that day though it was just after midnight, band aid still on her forehead from the incident at the airport, shoes seemingly uneven, as if one of the heels of her high heels was broken off. If he hadn't been scared out of his mind by the look she was shooting him, he might have laughed. But the look in her eyes prevented anything more that the thought of that.

"Bastard," she spat out, slamming the door shut as she stepped closer to him in the kitchen, making it even more obvious that her shoes were, in fact, uneven. It was more of a hobble than a step.

"Rach," Chandler took a step forward, as well.

"I was fine," she shook her head, holding her hands up, as if to keep him at a distance. "I was fine until you told me about him. **You**," she shook her head vigorously, slurring her words slightly, and Chandler gathered where she had spent the few hours since getting off work. "He was just Ross. Just. Ross. And I was fine. I was fiiiiinnneeee," she drug out the word. "And then you," she hobbled forward once more, "**you** have to go and tell me he likes me-"

"Rach-"

"And then he has to go and come back with **Julie**," she spat out the name, as if it left a biter taste in her mouth.

"Rach-"

"And that wouldn't have bothered me. A week ago, that wouldn't have bothered me. But then **you**," she again pointed at Chandler, poking him in the chest, "Bastard!"

"Rach, I'm sorry," Chandler said softly, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder.

"It's **all** your fault," Rachel said, not moving away from his touch this time, almost in tears.

Chandler nodded slowly in agreement. "All my fault."

"And after work, I went to that bar down that street, and on the way home, my heel broke," she kicked off her shoes, confirming Chandler's theory. "And I'm sure you're somehow to blame for that, too," she mumbled, accepting Chandler's arms as he pulled her in for a hug. She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears that had been threatening all day, accepting Chandler's familiar embrace.

"I'm sorry," Chandler again apologized, kissing the top of her head.

Rachel sighed, burying her face in Chandler's chest. She bawled up her fist, hitting his chest, frustrated with him, with Ross, with everything.

"Do I even want to know how long you've known how he's felt?" Rachel finally asked quietly, that thought having crossed her mind more than once in the past week.

Chandler sighed; this was going to make him look like an asshole. If he knew how Ross, his best friend, felt about her, didn't tell her, yet continued to sleep with her, he was an asshole. Which was precisely why she didn't want to know.

"No, you don't want to know," he finally replied, just as quietly, and Rachel nodded.

"Don't tell me, then," she whispered, and Chandler pulled back slightly, wiping the tears from her eyes with his thumbs, and he recognized the look in her eyes as being completely lost. He could kiss her; that would surely make her feel better. That probably wouldn't make her any less lost, and probably wasn't the right thing to do right now, though. So, instead, he pulled her back into his arms, tightening them around her as she sighed deeply.

"Lunch tomorrow?" he finally offered quietly. "I'll buy you new shoes, since I broke your old ones, and all."

Rachel smiled at that as she pulled back, nodding as she wiped away the remaining tears. He was keeping her from having to make a decision right now. He was stopping anything from happening between them. He was being a good guy.

"Yea," she sniffled slightly, attempting to rub away the mascara from the bottom of her eyes she knew had been running. "Lunch tomorrow would be good."

"Okay," Chandler whispered in return. "G'night, Rach."

Rachel stayed rooted in her spot a moment longer. As much as she was angry with him at the moment, a part of her still wanted to take that anger out on him by pulling him into his bedroom. If she had had any more to drink that night than she had, that very likely may have happened.

"Goodnight," she finally replied, kissing him on the cheek before heading towards the door, not so much as glancing back at him, knowing that one look, and she would be back in his arms and regretting it in the morning.

**~.~2001~.~**

"So, uh, why are you coming back to New York?" Chandler changed the subject, which didn't go unnoticed.

"I told you, I got a new job," Rachel replied, sipping what was now her second cup of coffee. "Way to deflect the attention from the subject of Monica, by the way."

Chandler smirked at that, hesitating and considering revisiting the former topic before changing his mind. He imagined there would be plenty of time in the near future to talk about Monica and for Rachel to tell him how stupid/wonderful it had been that he told her what he told her. Right now, though, he didn't feel like discussing that.

"So," he took a drink of his coffee, which was now cold, still on his first cup, "where's this new job?"


	7. Chapter 6

Wonderwall

Chapter 6

~.~

_Um, not quite sure what, exactly, happened with the posting of my last chapter…sorry for any technical difficulties you had with that. I'm just gonna move on from that, though, and continue posting…._

_Thanks for the reviews from those who, at random times, it seems, were able to get the chapter to load, haha. I'm kinda (very much) feeling the pressure right now since there's been a sudden explosion of Randler fics around here (not complaining, though!). It's nice to see so many people actually writing in this fandom at the moment. It's almost like the old days… only then it was with Mondler ;)_

**~.~**

_I said, maybe_

_you're gonna be the one who saves me…_

**~.~ 1995~.~**

Chandler looked up suddenly when his bedroom door opened, not expecting anyone over that late, yet knowing exactly who it would be.

"Hey," he offered quietly, closing the yearbook he had taken from Mr. Heckles' apartment and was now flipping through, re-reading the comments made about Mr. Heckles that sounded strikingly like himself, still unable to move past thinking that Mr. Heckles fate would be his, as well.

"Hey," Rachel replied, quietly as well, closing the door behind her. She held his eye contact, sitting down beside him on the bed, leaning up against the pillows. He smiled, wrapping an arm around her.

"Hey," he repeated, warmer this time.

"Hey," she smiled, the kind of smile Chandler swore he could feel when she smiled that warmly, and he couldn't help but smile wider at that. "You're not really going to die alone," she continued his discussion with the girls from earlier. "You know that, right?"

Chandler shrugged, smile fading slightly, still not completely convinced of the fact.

"You're not," she repeated in a whisper, pushing the book from his lap and onto the bed before leaning over to kiss him, attempting to reassure him of that fact.

**~.~1996~.~**

"Wanna dance?"

Rachel looked up from the glass of wine she had been drowning her sorrows in at Carol and Susan's wedding reception, gladly accepting the hand that Chandler was offering.

"Why not," she shrugged, setting the glass down as they headed to the dance floor, not many people remaining at the reception. Rachel had decided to stay, not wanting to leave and have to have another real conversation with her mother, who had left earlier with Monica, and she assumed was waiting for her at her apartment.

"You okay?" Chandler asked softly as he snaked his arms around her waist, and Rachel only shrugged sadly, wrapping her arms around his neck, as well.

"My mom's leaving my dad," she replied desolately. "Am I supposed to be okay with that?"

Chandler shook his head. "No. No, you're not."

Rachel took her bottom lip between her teeth, as if unsure of what she was about to say. "Do you think-do you think if I had married Barry, she wouldn't be thinking about leaving my dad? If I hadn't done that, then she wouldn't be doing it?"

"Rach," Chandler shook his head, "that's ridiculous. You're wishing misery on yourself, so that your parents could remain together, yet miserable?"

Rachel chuckled at that. "Pretty screwed up, huh?"

"Yea, but at least now you can blame being screwed up on being a child of divorce," Chandler grinned, and Rachel again laughed.

"You're good at cheering me up," she sighed with content, leaning her head against Chandler's chest, still moving slightly to the music.

"I try," Chandler replied, kissing her hair, letting his lips linger a moment too long. "Wanna get out of here?" he whispered into her hair, fingertips pressed into the small of her back.

Rachel glanced around the room, noting that Ross was now gone with Ben, and that Joey and Phoebe seemed to be occupied for the moment. "Think anyone else will notice?" she asked, face entirely too close to his, her hot breath on his neck as she spoke.

"Not more than they're gonna notice if we keep doing this here," he smirked, kissing her forehead as she leaned her head back against his chest, running his fingertips slowly down her back.

"Kay, then," Rachel nodded against his chest, breathing in his scent, which was comfortingly Chandler-y. "As soon as this song is over."

"Deal," Chandler whispered in reply, enjoying her in his arms as much as she was enjoying being there, trying to ignore the line he was toeing (right, toeing, maybe more like crossing) with the girl his best friend still very much was trying to get.

**~.~2001~.~**

"How long are we going to **not** talk about what we both know we're not talking about?" Chandler finally asked, the two now walking along the city streets, not heading anywhere in particular. But, having covered jobs and their common friends, they had felt the need to get up and walk, uncomfortable at the territory they had left to cover.

Rachel sighed, wishing the stifling summer heat would stop beating down on her, making the whole situation seem even less bearable than it already was. Coming to a dead stop, she shrugged helplessly, staring Chandler in the eye. "I didn't know what else to do other than leave, Chandler," her voice was so quiet it was almost lost in the commotion of the city street, people continuing to rush past them, though they were standing in place in the middle of the sidewalk.

Chandler looked at her, pain of regret palpable. He nodded slowly, not sure what would have happened had she not left. Not sure what would have happened with Monica; not sure what could have possibly happened with her. He took a deep, painstaking breath, unable to break the eye contact. "I know," he finally choked out.

Rachel nodded, understanding the turmoil he was facing at the moment, as well, and knowing the choice he had been forced to make in the past. It all seemed entirely too tangible in that moment, on that Manhattan street, the familiar smell of the city mixed with that warm-fuzziness that washes over you when you know you're home, together throwing her into complete emotional overdrive, almost wishing she had spoken to Chandler on the phone before she came back to see him. He had completely unfair home-court advantage. Although, really, his home-court was her home-court, too.

"I know, too," she finally whispered, beginning to walk again, and Chandler reached out, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze as they fell into step beside each other, letting the rest go unsaid for the time being.


	8. Chapter 7

Wonderwall

Chapter 7

**~.~**

_Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for the reviews! Keep it up, and I'll keep updating quickly :) Also, thank you for your patience with this fic…I know some of you are confused and frustrated, but…you're still not meant to know it all, and we are getting very, VERY close. Promise :) _

**~.~**

_By now you should've somehow_

_Realized what you gotta do_

_I don't believe that anybody_

_Feels the way I do about you now_

**~.~1996~.~**

Rachel silently made her way across the hall into the guy's apartment, tip-toeing across the living room and into Chandler's bedroom. She quietly opened then closed the door, crawling into bed with him.

"Mmm, hey, Rach," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her as she curled up beside him, fitting her body against his. "You okay?" he continued mumbling, eyes still closed, knowing the answer to that.

"No," Rachel replied, barely in a whisper as she settled into his arms. "He cheated on me," she stated in a whisper, voice breaking as she held back tears.

"Ross is an idiot," Chandler replied, kissing the top of her head as she buried her face in his chest. Why Ross would cheat on the woman he had chased for years was beyond him, and why anyone would ever cheat on Rachel was something even less fathomable. If he were ever to get Rachel, which, he was all but positive, was not something that could ever happen (they'd made it _very_ clear that what was between them was only physical, no feelings, only physical), he couldn't imagine doing something like that. He couldn't even imagine the thought of doing something like that.

"Then why do I miss him?" Rachel's small voice broke through the silence of the room, and Chandler tightened his arms around her.

"Because you love him."

Rachel nodded, letting Chandler continue to hold her as she cried, glad for the closeness of another person at the moment and not having to sleep alone that night.

And that was the night they innocently broke Rule Number Four, which would not be the only rule (or the worst rule) they would end up breaking in the next year.

**~.~ 1997~.~**

Rachel stared out at the ocean, watching the moonlight's reflection on it, broken only by the waves she continued to watch until they broke against the shoreline. She sighed, wishing to god she could just get over Ross already or else make things work, tired of dealing with her feelings for him. She looked down by the beach, where Bonnie was swimming with the guys, Chandler and Joey goofing around and making her laugh. She smiled, wishing she was enjoying herself that weekend.

Opening the book she had been reading, she sighed, staring blankly at the page, re-reading the same paragraph what seemed like seven times before comprehending a word of it. Sighing again, she again closed the book, looking up as she clutched it to her chest. This time, her gaze was met by Chandler, only a few feet in front of her, and coming closer.

"Hey," he smiled, sitting down beside her, the water from his wet swim trunks and tshirt creating a small pool beneath him as they dripped.

"Hey," Rachel replied, forcing a smile, which he didn't for a second buy.

"You…okay?" he asked, drying himself off with the towel he had been carrying.

Rachel sighed. "Oh, ya know," she smiled with a shrug, and Chandler nodded, giving her a sympathetic smile. Rachel again sighed, leaning into him, the cold wetness of his shirt against her warm arm as she leaned her head against his shoulder, touching the side of his leg slightly with her own.

Chandler closed his eyes, swallowing hard, and he fought himself on whether he wanted to use self-control. No, not wanted, needed to use self-control. They hadn't slept together in well over a year, Chandler feeling too weird about the fact that she had just broken up with his best friend, even if all that was between them was sex. Just sex, no feelings. Yes, that's what he'd repeated to himself every time he was with her until he believed it. Even if he were to have feelings for her, he could never get Rachel Green, anyway (and how Ross managed to was beyond him). After repeating their 'no feelings, just sex,' rule to himself so many times in the past few years, he did believe it now, but still felt tinged with guilt over betraying Ross.

"I'm not the one you want right now," he finally whispered, eyes still closed, and Rachel nodded before leaning away, removing her hand from his leg, peeling her leg away from his leg, her warm body away from the coolness of his.

"I'm not the one you want right now, either," Rachel shot back, a bit defensively, not because he wasn't right, but because it hurt that he was.

Chandler glanced behind them at Monica inside, where Rachel had looked when she made that remark. He only shrugged. "I don't want to _be_ her boyfriend. I just want her not to think that dating me would be such a ridiculous idea," he replied quietly, also slightly defensively.

Rachel turned to him, offering a slight smile. "Not a ridiculous idea," she shook her head. "She's just messing with you because you're messing with her."

Chandler face contorted slightly, as he thought that over. "Really?"

"Really."

"Huh."

"You really don't get women, do you?" Rachel laughed slightly, glad the awkward moment had passed.

"Not even in the slightest," Chandler laughed as well, smile creeping onto his face, causing Rachel to smile as well. "Are you really okay?"

Rachel shrugged. "I will be," she replied honestly.

"Okay, because I actually kind of came up here to pee," he stood up.

"Why don't you just pee in the ocean?"

"Ew," Chandler looked at her in disgust. "Wait, do people do that?" he looked at her in shock. "Wait, do you do that?" he added, still in shock. "Yea, definitely not sleeping with you tonight, sorry, Rach," he added with a smirk, heading into the house before she could respond to that.

**~.~2001~.~**

Rachel looked up at the Bloomingdale's sign, and despite how the nostalgia of her past life in New York was stinging a bit, it was nice to be walking by familiar territory. Chandler looked down at her with a warm smile, having walked that way on purpose. Rachel stopped, and since she was holding loosely onto Chandler's arm, he stopped, too.

After a few moments of staring at the building, replaying her years spent in New York, and mostly her last year there, she looked up at Chandler, lost.

Chandler studied her face for a moment, trying to read it. "You broke the first rule," he finally said softly, not accusatorily, just stating a fact.

"You broke the worst rule," Rachel replied, same tone of voice.

Chandler nodded at that, unable to argue. "Touché."

Rachel shook her head, continuing. "No, actually," she took a deep breath in, turning towards Chandler as she released it. "We kind of both broke all of the rules together, didn't we?"

Chandler smirked at that, nodding in agreement. "Every. Single. One."


	9. Chapter 8

Wonderwall

Chapter 8

~.~

_Thanks for the reviews! I'm gonna keep on posting as fast as I'm writing this._

_The referred to "rules" in the last chapter were given in chapter 4 (rule 1: no telling anyone; rule 2: just sex, no feelings; rule 3: no cheating on significant others with each other; rule 4: no spending the night)._

~.~

_I'm sure you've heard it all before_

_but you never really had a doubt_

_I don't believe that anybody_

_feels the way I do about you now_

**~.~1997~.~**

_I could make out with this man for hours_, was the only even semi-coherent thought running through Rachel's head as they made out on her couch. She was lying on top of him, each of his hands planted firmly on each side of her ribcage, her fingertips raking through his hair.

He had come over to sleep on their couch because he was upset over hearing Joey and Kathy together. She'd come home to find him cuddled up on the couch with a sick Monica, watching what appeared to be some chick-flick. She had fought off what felt a bit like jealousy at that, reminding herself that Chandler was in no way, shape, or form hers. However, a few hours later, after Monica went to bed and Rachel came out of her room to get a glass of water, this had somehow been the result.

How long they had been lying there making out completely escaped her, but it felt like hours. Hours of kissing and hands wandering, fingers teasing and hot breath against skin.

"Bedroom?" Chandler finally asked, voice low and breathless as his lips moved from her lips to the spot on her neck, just below her ear, that after a few years of practice, he had found he loved the reaction he received from kissing her there.

Rachel moaned softly in approval, both to his actions and the suggestion, feeling one of his hands pressing firmly into her lower back, pressing her into him, the other hand entwining with her own, his fingertips gliding between hers before releasing her hand, moving down to play with the elastic waistband of her pajama pants, moving to the bedroom first seemingly forgotten.

"Bedroom," Rachel echoed his request, and Chandler nodded, still kissing her as they moved from laying, to sitting, to standing, moving slowly toward her bedroom, leaving his pillow and blanket behind on the couch.

**~.~1997~.~**

Rachel took a few deep, unsteady breaths as she sat in the Barca Lounger, leaning up against Chandler, who was perched on the arm of the chair, arm currently around her. She wanted to question if he knew what he was doing. He had a girlfriend at the moment, and sitting this close to her, arm around her, lips pressed into her hair, had proved to be dangerous territory in the past.

She also wanted to ask if he felt at all tinged with jealousy at the thought of setting her up with one of his co-workers, since she felt slightly jealous of the thought of him with Kathy. Asking that question, though, would mean that she was breaking the all-too-important Rule Number Two: no feelings, just sex.

However, if he continued to sit that close, fingertips tracing small circles on her upper-arm, he would also be in violation of Rule Number Three: no cheating.

In the past few months even more so than the past few years, Rachel had grown very used to, very fond of, this feeling Chandler gave her when she was around him. It wasn't all the time, but when it was just the two of them, and he sat just slightly too close, brushing purposefully up against her, either on his own or in acceptance of her advances, it gave her a butterfly-y feeling in her stomach and made her face feel flushed.

He kissed her temple, and though it was a seemingly innocent move, the feeling of his hot breath on her cheek sent shivers up her back.

"You have a girlfriend," Rachel finally choked out, pulling slightly away from him, leaning the other direction in the chair.

Chandler looked down momentarily, feeling slightly guilty. He knew exactly what he was doing and exactly what effect it had on both of them, but he enjoyed the rush he got out of getting a response from Rachel.

"Rangers game?" he finally asked softly.

Rachel looked at him, slightly confused.

"I have tickets for tonight's Rangers game. Wanna go with me?"

Rachel looked at him, uncertain. That wasn't an invitation for a date, was it? He had a girlfriend. He had a girlfriend, and knew if he was going to be hanging out with her, he needed to be around thousands of other people, where nothing could happen.

"Cute guys in little shorts? Sure," she smiled.

"Well, actually it's hockey, so it's angry Canadians with no teeth," Chandler corrected her.

"Well, that sounds fun, too," Rachel nodded, again leaning into his chest. She felt him hold his breath. Dangerous territory.

"We should-we should get going," he finally said, peeling his body away from hers as he stood up.

Rachel smiled, knowing that if he was cracking, she, at least, needed to keep up the façade of being fine. "Let me just go change first," she stood up as well, heading over to her own apartment, leaving him alone to pull himself together.

**~.~2001~.~**

Rachel climbed up what seemed like an endless amount of stairs to Chandler's apartment, and when they reached his floor, followed him down the maze of a hallway, finally stopping at the door labeled "1920."

"Some kind of irony?" Rachel raised her eyebrows at the number, and Chandler chuckled, unlocking the door and letting her in first.

"Something like that," he closed the door behind them, spinning the lock as Rachel began wondering through his apartment.

"Huh," Rachel said out loud, though she hadn't meant to, as she looked around. Modern, was the word she would use to describe the décor, and she was surprised by how…nice it all was. Small, but nice. Put together. Modern. Very downtown Manhattan.

"What?" Chandler asked with a laugh, watching as she walked from his living room to his kitchen, and then down the small hallway to the bedroom and bathroom.

"Nothing," Rachel shook her head, looking around still. She had never pictured Chandler's style as this. But then, he had been living with Monica, she was would assume, for the past few years, and had had next to no say in that, and before that, had lived with Joey in what was very much a bachelor's apartment, which he had lived in since he was just a kid right out of school. This apartment was a grown-up's apartment.

"Seriously, what?" Chandler asked, slightly amused at Rachel's reaction as she finished the tour she had given to herself, heading back through the kitchen.

"Nothing," Rachel shook her head, "it's just," she paused, laughed, felt silly saying it out loud. "When did you become such a grown up?"

Chandler laughed at that, as well, leaning up against the counter. "If it makes you feel any better, the only things I have in my fridge are Diet Coke, beer, expired milk, and condiments that I never have any food to use with."

"A little better," Rachel smiled.

"Want something to drink?"

"From the aforementioned choices?" Rachel teased. "Diet Coke is fine."

Chandler laughed, walking over and taking one out of the fridge, handing it to her. She took it, his hands grazing hers, and she looked down. Chandler shifted his weight nervously; they were standing entirely too close.

Rachel cleared her throat, taking half a step back. "Are we, uh, are we going to talk now?"

Chandler shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure what else to do but talk now. "Yea," he finally nodded. "We should probably talk now."


	10. Chapter 9

Wonderwall

Chapter 9

~.~

_Said maybe _  
_You're gonna be the one that saves me..._

**~.~1998~.~**

"Please?" Rachel folded her arms across her chest, blocking Chandler's exit from what was about to be his former bedroom.

"No," he ignored her plea, continuing packing instead of exiting with the box he had just finished packing.

"Pretty please?"

"Oh, really, _pretty_ please? I guess I can't say no to that."

"Ugh, Chandler," Rachel sighed in exasperation, not at all wanting to switch apartments with the guys, and also very used to getting her way. "Fine," she took a different approach, walking towards his bed, which he was standing beside. "If you take our apartment," she took another step towards him, now directly in front of him, running a finger slowly down his chest, "no more sex."

Chandler laughed at that. "I have a girlfriend right now; not my biggest concern," he attempted to move away from her.

Rachel moved with him. "Are you gonna marry this girl? Be with her forever?"

Chandler contemplated that for a moment before smiling. "You're bluffing," he took her by the shoulders, steering her out of his path. "Besides, if I did say yes to that, what would you tell Monica? That you got your apartment back by threatening to withhold sex from me?"

Rachel scowled at that, arms still crossed.

"It won't be that bad," Chandler grinned, pulling his clothes out of the closet and throwing them on the bed. "You can have my room."

"Monica already called your room," Rachel grumbled. "I'm stuck with Joey's room."

"Good luck with that," Chandler made a face of slight disgust.

"Ugh, this is all Monica's fault," Rachel stomped back to his door.

"Yes, all Monica's fault," Chandler nodded in agreement, continuing to pack. "Since she's the one that thinks I'm a 'transponster,' whatever the hell that is," he laughed.

"Whatever," Rachel again sighed in frustration, opening up the door. "I'm _not_ bluffing, by the way," she added, before heading back to her/soon to be his apartment.

**~.~1998~.~**

Chandler looked up from his seat in the Barca Lounger when the front door opened, not really paying attention to what was on TV anyway.

"Hey," Rachel offered softly, walking over to where he was seated.

"Hey," Chandler replied, looking first at her, then down at his sweatpants, and then back at the TV.

"You okay?" Rachel continued, sitting on the arm of the chair beside him. Chandler shrugged. "Wanna talk about it?" Chandler again shrugged. Rachel paused for a moment, thinking. "Want to know if I was bluffing?"

Chandler chuckled slightly at that. "I know you were bluffing."

"Is that so?" Rachel asked, smiling when he looked up at her. Chandler nodded. "Are you really okay?"

Chandler sighed heavily, leaning closer to her in the chair. "I just feel so stupid," he shook his head. "I mean, I feel hurt, but I feel so _stupid_. If I hadn't accused her of cheating, then maybe she," Chandler trailed off, sighing again.

"Hey, being accused of cheating does not excuse cheating," Rachel defended him.

"And being on a break doesn't excuse cheating, either," Chandler added, sincerely. "And, I think, if you listen close enough, you can hear a teeny, tiny voice somewhere off in the distance yelling, 'We were on a break!'" Chandler added, getting a slight laugh out of Rachel. "Anyway," he again sighed, "I kind of feel stupid for even trusting her to begin with. I mean, our relationship began by her cheating on Joey with me. How trustworthy is that?"

Rachel didn't respond to that. Chandler scooted over in the chair, motioning for her to move off of the arm and sit beside him. She did so, and they both sat in silence for a moment, staring at the TV screen. She wanted to tell him that, while part of her hurt for him hurting, another part of her was happy he had broken up with Kathy, because she had missed him. More so in the past couple of months than at any other time in the past few years, she missed kissing him and sleeping with him. She missed spending time alone with him late at night, speaking in hushed tones and sneaking home before morning. Admitting that, though, would be crossing a line they were not supposed to be crossing. They were supposed to be just friends. A friend would not say that. And, besides, he had just gotten out of a relationship he never would have gotten into if he had felt the same about her.

Chandler ran his fingertips slowly up and down Rachel's upper arm, wanting to tell her how much he had missed her the past couple of months, but feeling guilty for that. Before he had started dating Kathy, before he had gone after Kathy, he knew he was getting in too deep emotionally with Rachel and needed to stop. Kathy, beautiful, funny, Kathy, had helped do that…until she broke his heart. And now that she was gone, and he was hurting, and Rachel was sitting so, so closely, smelling all Rachel-y, her hand all but burning a hole straight through its resting place on his thigh, her head resting just so in the crook of his neck as she cuddled up beside him….

"So, you really were bluffing?" he finally asked quietly, turning towards Rachel. Rachel nodded slowly, and Chandler looked at her nervously, almost hesitating for a moment before brushing her hair away from her face, tipping her face up by her chin to kiss her.

"I didn't lock the door," Rachel whispered, kissing him once, twice, three times, finding it hard to care about the unlocked door.

"Were you not yet bluffing when you walked in here?" Chandler laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her onto his lap.

"Hadn't made up my mind yet," Rachel smiled. "I still wanted to punish you for stealing my apartment."

"Punish me, huh?" Chandler asked, pausing to kiss her again. "That sounds like it could be fun…." Rachel laughed, hitting him playfully on the arm. "Was that it?" Chandler pulled away, looking at his arm.

Rachel shook her head, ignoring him. "Bedroom?"

Chandler smiled, standing up and picking her up in one fell swoop. Rachel gasped, not expecting that. "Bedroom," he whispered in agreement before heading in there with her, neither of them mentioning his sudden change in mood, afraid what the consequences of knowing the reason might be.

**~.~1998~.~**

Rachel fought to catch her breath, head against Chandler's shoulder as he still leaned against her, pinning her up against his bedroom wall. Kissing her on the cheek, because it was the closest body part, he finally found the strength to again stand up, pulling her with him. He pulled his pants up as she adjusted her skirt, running her hands through her hair a couple of times.

Rachel reached back onto the bed just as there was a knock on Chandler's bedroom door.

"Hey, Chandler, you home?" Ross's voice cut through the room, both Rachel and Chandler's eyes widening at that. Ross, though, didn't give them time to respond, before opening the door. "Hey, man, we have some news," he said, overly eager, motioning for Chandler to follow. "Oh, hey, Rach," he added, slightly awkwardly. "What are you doing?"

"Getting our apartment back," she grinned, handing the Knicks tickets in her hand to Chandler, who took them with a grin.

"That's courtside, baby," Chandler grinned, following Ross across the living room and across the hall, where everyone else was waiting, including Emily.

"Guys," Ross started, unable to stop smiling. "We have some news."

The only word Rachel heard out of the whole speech that followed was "married," and she tried hard to understand why it still felt like a punch in the stomach to hear that Ross was getting married. She didn't love him. She hadn't loved him in some time. But to hear he was getting married….

And then Chandler's hand was on her lower back as everyone began congratulating the couple, and the news somehow seemed lighter. She looked back at him, and he gave her a slight sympathetic smile, which she returned.

That night, they again broke Rule Number Four by spending the night together, and, for the first time, admitted to themselves (though not to each other) that they were knowingly breaking Rule Number Two: there were feelings involved. For weeks, actually, there had been feelings involved.

If only they had admitted that part out loud….

**~.~1998~.~**

Rachel tiptoed across the hall and into the guy's apartment, making her way quietly into Chandler's bedroom. From the sound of it, Joey was still up with some girl. Rachel rolled her eyes at that, wondering how Chandler could sleep through it. Closing his door behind her, she climbed into bed with him. He was sleeping in the very center of the bed, something she found funny because when she slept alone, she slept the exact same way. The few times they had spent the night together, they had ended up (playfully) arguing over who was the bigger bed-hog (Chandler said she was because, for a not very big person, she sure took up a lot of space).

Crawling over to where he was, she straddled him, leaning in to kiss him. She kissed him first on the lips, then along his jaw-line, down his neck. Placing her hands underneath his tshirt, she pushed it up, running her fingertips softly along his tummy and chest as she did so. He began to stir slightly, and she continued kissing her way down his body, down his chest, and then his tummy, at which point Chandler ran his hand slowly up her back, pulling her back up to kiss him.

"Hey," he smiled sleepily, kissing her as she lay on top of him, pressing her body against his.

"Hey," Rachel whispered in reply, kissing him again.

"Do some drinking at Phoebe's baby shower, did you?" Chandler laughed slightly, closing his eyes as he let Rachel continue what she had been doing, now grinding against him.

"Yea, someone had to drink all of the alcohol everyone bought for her since she didn't think giving her gifts she couldn't use until after the babies are born was such a great idea," Rachel trailed off, kissing him again.

"Way to take one for the team," he whispered, running his hands up her sides underneath her shirt. When he tried to take it off, though, she shook her head. "God, what are you trying to do, kill me?" he groaned, and Rachel held a finger to his lips.

"Shh, Joey's still up," she whispered, again kissing her way down his body. "Besides," she added quietly, "I don't think anyone has ever died from a little teasing," she spoke between kisses, planting them first down his jawline, then down his neck, then down his chest, to his tummy. She played with the waistband of his boxers before kissing her way down, sill over the boxers.

Chandler again groaned in protest, and Rachel laughed slightly.

"I will gladly be the first case study for someone killed from teasing," he whispered, but only put up with the teasing for about two more seconds before again trying to remove her clothes, and this time, she let him.

**~.~1998~.~**

You're really not going to London?" Chandler watched uncomfortably, as Monica had this conversation with Rachel.

"Mon, I just," she took a deep breath, "I can't. It's not that I still love him, or want to marry him, I just, I can't watch him marry someone else. I can't."

Monica made a noise of judgment, as if she didn't believe that.

"What, do you think I still love him?"

"Something like that," Monica scoffed, Chandler staying quiet and staying out of it. He wanted to believe she was telling the truth, but a feeling in the pit of his stomach made him think that a part of her still did love Ross, and it was probably the same part of her that could never be anything more than friends with benefits with him.

"Well, believe what you will," Rachel stood up from the kitchen table, ending the conversation. "Besides, someone has to stay here with Phoebe. You know, take care of her and make sure she doesn't have any of the babies until everyone gets back." And with that, she was gone, ending the conversation by walking out the door.

Because of that, Chandler was certain the feelings he had developed towards Rachel were one-sided, his heart falling more than slightly at that. And when she didn't come over that night, the night before they left for London, he was even more certain. By the time they arrived in London, having had hours to sulk on the plane, he was completely heartbroken, kicking himself for even going up to Rachel that night in the bar five years earlier, and, even more, kicking himself for thinking he could get so involved with her without falling for her.

**~.~2001~.~**

Chandler sat uncomfortably on his couch, studying Rachel, who had taken a sudden interest in reading the nutrition label of the Diet Coke can she was holding. He knew they needed to talk, she knew they needed to talk, but it was so hard to do. Really, it was hard to focus with her sitting there, inches away from him, for the first time in years.

And he could almost swear she was wearing that sundress solely to torture him, her suntanned shoulders beneath its slim blue straps teasing him just so, the deep blue of the dress bringing out her eyes, her hair longer than he'd seen it in all the time he'd known her, lighter, too, from spending time in the sun, sweeping across her shoulders when she moved. And she smelled like…well, she smelled like all kinds of Rachel. If you could bottle summertime up in a bottle, that's what it would smell like: Rachel. Sweet and coconut-y, like the shampoo and conditioner he had gotten scolded for stealing from the girls' bathroom on more than one occasion, but with a mix of something else he couldn't quite put his finger on other than saying it was pure Rachel.

Rachel stared down at her soda can, counting her breaths. He wanted to kiss her. It had been years since she had seen him, but that much she was sure of: he wanted to kiss her. They were sitting slightly too closely on the couch, her knee brushing up against his thigh, and if she were to move any closer, she could almost be sitting on top of him.

She wanted him to kiss her, too.

At the feeling of Chandler's fingertips against her bare shoulder, Rachel inhaled sharply, not expecting the physical contact.

She turned to face him suddenly, mustering all of the willpower she was capable of. His fingers moved from her shoulder to her cheek, and every ounce of willpower she had just established melted away. He leaned in to kiss her, slowly, so that she could stop if she wanted to. She didn't, though. She let him kiss her, softly, his lips slowly brushing against hers. And then, just as suddenly as it began, it was over.

When Chandler pulled back, Rachel kept her eyes closed for a moment, trying to keep both her thoughts and emotions in check. When she opened her eyes, the look on her face was all business. She shifted her position so that she was facing him, crossed her legs, and set her soda can on a coaster on the coffee table in front of them.

"First," she looked at him, the sparkle in her eyes almost promising there would be more of that later, "we talk."


	11. Chapter 10

Wonderwall

Chapter 10

**~.~**

_Today was gonna be the day, but they'll never throw it back to you_

_By now you should've somehow realized what you're not to do_

_I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do_

_About you now_

**~.~1998~.~**

"C'mon, there is no way you look like Ross's mom," Chandler attempted to console Monica, as he had been doing for the past few hours, after a drunk guy has mistaken them for Ross's parents at the rehearsal dinner.

"Right," Monica laughed, not believing him as they approached the hallway outside her hotel room.

"Are you serious? C'mon. You were the most beautiful person in the room tonight, Mon," he softly touched her shoulder.

Monica squinted at him. They had just spent the better part of the past two hours at the bar, and in her own drunken haze, she was unable to tell just how drunk Chandler was. Though she knew exactly what kind of sorrows she was drowning, tired of her mother bothering her about being alone, and really, her mother reminding her that she was, in fact, alone and not even close to marriage, she had no idea what sorrows Chandler was busy drowning. However, she was thankful for the company. "Really?" she finally asked, his fingertips still tracing small circles on her arm.

"C'mon, Mon," Chandler scoffed, dropping his hand. "You're the most beautiful woman in most rooms…."

Monica looked up at him, giving him a small smile. She was half-expecting some kind of smart-ass comment after that, but found herself glad that this was the sweet and serious side of Chandler she got to see less often than the goofy, self-deprecating side. And somewhere, between the look he was giving her and the words he had just said and the warm, fuzzy, drunken haze she felt from the bottles of wine they had finished off together, she threw her arms around his neck, kissing him.

And he kissed back. _She's not Rachel_, was the first thought on his mind, even far from sober. But…

She _was_ Monica. And Monica had always held a special (though very different from Rachel) place in his heart. He'd always felt a certain, special kind of affection towards her. And, god, there was a good portion of him that had been dying to do this with her for the past eight or so years, before anything with Rachel had even happened. The culmination of every touch, every look, every second of chemistry between them for nearly a decade came through in that kiss. And they made out in the hallway for what seemed like an eternity before Monica finally fumbled through her purse, pulling out her keycard.

There was a part of Chandler that knew he should stop, a part of him that was begging him to stop. And it was the very same part of him that had irrevocably fallen for Rachel. But the rest of him…the rest of him was kissing Monica with everything he had, ready to let this inevitable event happen. That same part of him was also fully convinced, through the fumbling of fingertips with buttons and the smooth sliding of her silk dress against her skin and over her head and onto the floor, that since there was something always there with Monica, he could definitely fall for her.

He could fall for her. God, if she would only let him. If she would only let him fall for her, which Rachel had not done or had any intention of doing, he definitely could.

And seven rounds later, as the sun began to shine through the hotel-room curtains, Chandler made Monica fully aware of this fact, not wanting to have his heart shattered again. And through his whispers of confessions of how long he had wanted to do that with her, and how long there had been something between them, and the way he had always made her feel when they were together, sitting slightly too closely, or through shared looks over the years, Monica agreed that they should give "them" a shot.

Dozens of kisses later, Chandler snuck back to what was an empty hotel room, Joey obviously having hooked up for the night, pushing all thoughts of Rachel out of his head as he concentrated solely on Monica.

**~.~1998~.~**

The morning that Rachel's plane landed from Greece, she headed not to her own apartment, but to Chandler's. After some coaxing from Phoebe, and much convincing that she would be fine alone (though slightly envious they all got to leave the country without her), Rachel had decided to go to Ross's wedding. Ross had been so hurt that she wasn't going, and there was something in the way Chandler had acted towards her the morning they left that made her want to go see him. He had been cold. Hurt. Mad. Had she done something to him in the last three days?

After arriving in London, though, and congratulating Ross, Ross had to go and say her name at the altar instead of Emily's, causing all kinds of chaos to ensue. And, in all of the chaos, she found no time alone with Chandler, who still seemed to be acting oddly towards her.

When Emily hadn't shown up for their honeymoon, Ross offered Rachel the extra ticket. When he went after Emily, though, and Rachel ended up going to Greece alone, she'd had a lot of time to think.

And the one thing she thought about: Chandler. She thought about the time she'd spent with him the past few years, and, really, the past few months. She thought about how they were both kidding themselves if they thought they could keep up such an affair with no feelings involved.

There were feelings involved. He had been hurt that she didn't go with to London, thinking she still had feelings for Ross, and that's why he had been acting so coldly towards her.

She had cursed herself out at that realization, and by the time she arrived back home, had decided the first thing she needed to do was go find Chandler.

And she did.

Opening up his front door, she was relieved to find him alone, almost ready for work, and looking like he was about to leave. Leaving her suitcase in front of the door, she walked over to him as he walked out of the bathroom, kissing him.

And he kissed back, letting her push him up against the wall, her hand gripping the back of his neck, his digging into her back. He kissed her, the past week with Monica getting pushed to the back of his mind, the only thing filling his head at that moment being Rachel. The way she smelt, the way she tasted, the way she had of gripping him so tightly you'd think it was the last kiss she as going to give ever. He let everything about her wash over him, the past five years running through his head. Because, as soon as he stopped the kissing and told her about Monica, that was it for them. And it killed him to end things, but he knew it needed to end.

She didn't feel the same, she would never feel the same, and he had someone who did feel the same.

And so he kissed her. Hard, passionate, then soft, hands running up and down her back.

Only once she went for his belt did he stop.

"Rach," he pulled back, shaking his head. "We can't."

"What?" Rachel looked at him in confusion. Not once had he ever turned her down before. Had she hurt him that badly?

"We can't," he repeated. "I can't," he took a half a step away from her.

"Why not?" Rachel looked at him, arms crossed.

"I," Chandler started, but trailed off, taking a deep breath. "I'm…dating…Monica," he finally said, struggling to get the words out, having never envisioned this moment to be so heart-wrenching.

Rachel took a step back in shock. She felt like she had been hit in the stomach. Or stabbed in the back with a knife. Or stabbed in the back with a knife so hard it hit her in the stomach. "I-you-what?" she looked at him, confused. She had seen him only a week earlier. She had last slept with him a week and a half earlier.

"I slept with Monica, in London," he whispered. "And I, and we decided that…that it was something. It is something. And we haven't told anyone yet, but," he closed his eyes, not wanting to see Rachel's reaction, "we're together."

Rachel took a step forward, slapping him across the face, hard enough that it stung and left a slight red mark.

Chandler jumped back, opening his eyes. "What the hell was that for?"

"For making out with me when you have a girlfriend, that's what," she replied angrily.

"Are you mad at me?" Chandler looked at her.

"Why would I be mad?" Rachel laughed sarcastically. "It's not like at any point in the past five years I've felt something for you."

"Right," Chandler nodded. "And at no point in the past year did I spend any time feeling anything for you," Chandler shot back.

"You knew damn well how I felt about you," Rachel looked at him, tears in her eyes, and, for the first time, Chandler realized that he had been wrong. He had been wrong in assuming she hadn't felt the same. He had been wrong in assuming everything.

And it was too late.

_Why didn't you say something?_ He screamed at her in his head. But he couldn't get those words out, because he knew how hypocritical it would be of him to say that to her.

It was too late. His stomach fell. He wanted to puke. Oh, god, this was why they always say that thing about never assuming. Oh, god.

"Rule Number Two," Chandler finally said, needing to defend his actions, "No feelings."

"Rule Number Three, no cheating," Rachel shot back, eyes red and tear-filled.

"Rule Number One," Chandler whispered, "No telling anyone."

Rachel laughed. One hard, sardonic laugh. "That's what your main concern is here?" she shook her head. She had truly believed that he had felt something back. After how much time they had spent together for the past few months, all of the mid-afternoon meet-ups, and the late nights of tip-toeing back and forth between apartments, somewhere in the midst of the kissing and talking and laughing and having sex, she had fallen for him and completely believed he fell for her, too. That would teach her to assume such things. "Unbelievable, Chandler," she turned on her heel, heading towards the door.

"Rach-"

"Don't worry, I won't tell Monica," Rachel reassured him, a sense of bite still to her tone. "Fuck you, Chandler," she looked him in the eye, letting that set in for a moment before heading out the door, pulling her suitcase behind her.

Chandler closed his eyes tightly as the door slammed closed.

What the hell had he just done?

**~.~1999~.~**

"You're really leaving?" Monica asked Rachel, tears evident in her voice.

"Yea," Rachel nodded, attempting to keep her own tears at bay.

"But aren't there enough fashion jobs on the East Coast?" Joey butted in. "Why do you have to move all the way across the country?"

"This is a really, really great opportunity for me, you guys," Rachel explained, still trying to keep her composure. "Gap is growing phenomenally at the moment, and this merchandising position at their headquarters in San Francisco is a huge deal."

"Aren't there a million positions of that same job here in New York?" Phoebe butted in as well.

"Not that I was offered," Rachel shrugged. _And not that I applied for_ she added in her head. "Look, this is just something I need to do."

Ross looked down, speechless. "I guess…if this is something you really need to do, then…we'll all be happy and support you." He paused. "Right?" he looked around the group, and no one noticed how silent Chandler was being, eyes stubbornly glued to the floor, the rest of them begrudgingly nodding in agreement.

She couldn't be around them. It was killing her watching them together, so she had avoided them for months. At first it had been easy, because them being together had been a secret, but after everyone found out, it got harder and harder. And her head and her heart hurt from the effort. And, unlike with Ross, the group didn't know what had happened, so they didn't know that she had a reason to want to avoid Monica and Chandler at all costs, and they didn't understand the cold way Rachel had been acting towards Monica from time-to-time, though Monica had called her out on it once or twice.

She loved him. She had fallen for him. Hard. After five years' worth of build up.

And then he had taken it all away in one week, and, damnit, she couldn't stand to stay around and watch them together. She couldn't stand by and watch them together, all the while pondering what could have been, what should have been, with her and Chandler.

But, really, she had no right to him. No claim over him. He was right; she had broken the rules by admitting her feelings to him.

And so she was leaving. She was getting as far away as possible. Glancing up, she noticed that Chandler was still staring at the ground.

Good. He deserved to be feeling guilty right about now.

**~.~2001~.~**

"So you _really_ told her everything," Rachel stared at Chandler in disbelief.

"From the night you came back to the bar, to you slapping me when you found out about her," Chandler nodded slowly.

Rachel stared at the ground, all of the years with him running through her mind. She bit her bottom lip. "What did she say to that?" she finally asked, obviously knowing the outcome had eventually been them not getting married.

Chandler closed his eyes, leaning back into the couch and away from Rachel. Telling her what Monica said about that would mean telling her his reaction to what Monica had said. This was the hard part of the conversation, where all of the unspoken parts of the past would become spoken.

Chandler took one deep breath, licked his lips, and opened his eyes.

It was now or never.

~.~

_Thanks for the reviews of the last chapter, and keep it up, please! Also, wish me luck, I'm finding out about a possible promotion at work in the next couple of days! *crosses fingers*_


	12. Chapter 11

Wonderwall

Chapter 11

~.~

_Thank you all for the reviews and well-wishes! I am still on my way to getting the promotion, my manager and another manager have recommended me for one of three positions, but I have to do that whole being-patient thing and go through some interviews and paperwork and wait to find out….Have I mentioned I am the least patient person in the world? Ahhhhh. I just want to know nooooowwwww._

**~.~**

_I said maybe_

_You're gonna be the one that saves me_

_And after all_

_You're my wonderwall_

_I said maybe_

_You're gonna be the one that saves me_

_You're gonna be the one that saves me_

_You're gonna be the one that saves me_

**~.~2001~.~**

"Ugh," Monica sighed, angrily hanging up the phone.

"What's wrong?" Chandler asked, kissing her on the cheek as he walked from the kitchen into the living room, sitting down on the couch.

"Just Rachel," Monica shook her head. "I finally called her because she never gave me a straight answer about being a bridesmaid, and now, she says she's not even sure she's going to be able to make it back for the wedding," Monica sighed, collapsing down into the couch. "She hasn't been home in two years. She's been one of my best friends since elementary school. And she can't even find a weekend to come home for my wedding…" Monica trailed off, obviously upset.

Chandler attempted to swallow the knot in his throat accumulating at that, but ultimately found himself unable to. He felt like he could throw up. He not only knew the reason Rachel wasn't coming home, but he was the reason. And Monica had just had a conversation with him about no secrets now that they were getting married, and when she had, he had found himself overwhelmed with this massive amount of guilt he would feel from time-to-time when he thought about Rachel.

"I, um, I might know why she's not coming," Chandler finally choked out, the words flowing out before he had really made the decision to tell her.

Monica crossed her arms. "So, you're talking to Rachel, and she'll barely even return my calls?"

Chandler shook his head. "I haven't talked to her since she left."

"Then how do you know why she's not coming?"

Chandler took a deep breath. And then two. And then three. He counted backwards in his head from one hundred. In French. Yes, that will help him avoid the situation.

"Chandler," Monica said sternly, and Chandler looked up suddenly, brought back to the situation. He was really going to do this. Was he really going to do this? He had to. He couldn't feel this massive amount of guilt for the rest of his life, and he couldn't marry her without telling her.

"You know how, you know how when Ross got married, Rachel said she couldn't go to his wedding?"

"So, Rachel doesn't want to see Ross?" Monica asked, not at all understanding. It had been years, surely Rachel wasn't still hung up on Ross.

"No," Chandler shook his head. "She, um, she said she couldn't watch her ex get married, even though she didn't still love him. She just couldn't do it."

Monica still stared at him intently, not understanding, but wanting to know where he was going with it. She shook her head. "And what does that have to do with our wedding? Rachel didn't date either of us," Monica laughed, meaning it as a joke, but Chandler looked at her, stone-faced. Monica's face fell when his did, her jaw literally dropping. "Wait, you're not saying that you," she shook her head, not believing him.

"Look-"

"I just don't understand," Monica shook her head. "You dated Rachel?"

Chandler held up his hand, trying to find the right word. "Well, not technically _dated_, per se, but…yes…."

Monica stood up, needing to distance herself from him. How the hell didn't she know about a relationship between her best friend and fiancé? "When did this happen?"

Chandler closed his eyes. "In 1993," he replied.

"Did you even know Rachel in 1993?"

"That night, when we ran into her at the bar," he looked at Monica, and her face fell, realization sinking in.

"She was engaged then," she stated, and Chandler nodded. "So, it was just that one night?" she looked at him, hopeful, relieved, needing him to say yes to that.

Chandler slowly shook his head from side to side.

"When-when else?" Monica asked slowly.

"In '94. And '95. And '96. And '97," he paused, and Monica held her breath, "and '98."

Monica closed her eyes, shaking her head. "You both had relationships in all of those years. How could you two…."

"It was strictly a…friends with benefits kind of thing, if you will," Chandler explained quietly.

Monica stared at the top of his head, needing him to look up, make eye contact, give her something. 1998. She took a deep breath, not knowing if she wanted to know the answer to what she was about to ask. "Were you ever…with her…after we got together?"

Chandler closed his eyes, feeling the tears threaten. They had gone years without mentioning any of this. Years. They were happy. He loved her. He loved her so much. And he knew that, because of that, the next words out of his mouth wouldn't be a lie. "I never slept with her once we were together," he choked out.

"That's not what I asked," Monica walked over, directly in front of him. "Did you ever cheat on me with her?" she repeated, firmly, voice raised, but not yelling.

Chandler nodded, eyes still closed, and a second later, felt the sting of Monica's hand across his cheek. She hit a lot harder than Rachel did.

"At no point in the past three years did any of this seem like it should be mentioned?" Monica looked at him in disbelief, and he only shrugged, not sure what else to say.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, but she immediately waved him off, heading back towards the kitchen.

"Oh my god," Monica stopped suddenly, realization sinking in. "You're why she left."

When she turned around, Chandler was again staring at the ground. "Chandler Bing, I deserve some answers, look at me," she ordered him, and he did so. "Are you why she left?" Chandler again nodded. "Then this wasn't just a friends with benefits thing. This wasn't just sex. You don't move across the country to get away from a guy you've slept with a couple of times but aren't attached to."

Chandler swallowed hard. He still didn't know what to say. He had never said these feelings out loud to Rachel, let alone someone else.

Monica shook her head, tears in her eyes. "Just tell me this, Chandler," she whispered, now very close to breaking down. "Did you love her, too?"

**~.~2001~.~**

Rachel looked at Chandler, tears in her eyes. "If you loved me, then why," she took a deep, shaky breath, "why did you go after Monica?"

Chandler closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I didn't think you felt the same. And I was heartbroken. And she was there. And…part of me had always wanted her. And I went for it, and," he shrugged, lost.

"And then it was too late for us," Rachel finished, and Chandler nodded slowly in agreement.

"I'm sorry," Chandler finally said, and Rachel looked up, meeting his eye. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you how I felt sooner," Rachel replied slowly, still holding back tears.

"I'm sorry I didn't, either," Chandler whispered in agreement, and it was again awkwardly silent. "Monica and Ross aren't talking to me," Chandler finally continued. "At all. And it's weird with Phoebe, and even a little off with Joey. Everyone feels like we lied to them for years…."

Rachel chuckled. "Because we did."

Chandler smiled slightly at that, blue eyes meeting blue. "Fair enough." Rachel returned his smile. "The thing that I feel the most guilty about here, though, is that," he took a deep breath, leaning forward on the couch, "I miss you," he looked at her. "I spent the past three years trying damn hard not to think about you, but when something would remind me of you, I would miss you," he shrugged. "You were the one that got away."

Rachel bit her bottom lip, which was now quivering slightly from the tears held back. "You actively pushed me away. I didn't just _get_ away," she whispered bitterly.

"I'm sorry," he reached for her hands, and she let him take them, pulling her into his arms. And she let him hold her, the familiar scent, the familiar warmth, washing over her.

When Rachel finally pulled back, she wiped the tears from her eyes, still holding eye contact with him.

"Hey, um, in two weeks, when you move back for good," Chandler spoke softly, uncertain of himself, "Can we go to dinner? Or for coffee? Or…something? I mean, would that be completely inappropriate?"

Rachel smiled at that, laughing slightly, tears still in her eyes. "Most likely completely inappropriate, but," she paused, three years, five years, eight years filling that pause. Seeing him would very much solidify her friendship being over with Monica, but she had already very much made that decision when she decided not to tell Monica about the two of them before she left. "I don't know that I can be in the same city as you and not do that."

Chandler smiled when she met his eye, a smile showing through in her eyes. "So, dinner…."

"That Thursday?" Rachel smiled, fully smiled, almost grinned when he smiled at her in response to that. Whatever it was between them, even after all of those years, of course she couldn't stay away from him.

Maybe she wasn't meant to stay away from him.

"Dinner Thursday," Chandler repeated with a smile, squeezing her hand, still entwined with his own. "Dinner Thursday."

~.~

_So…I'm not sure if I'm going to continue on from here. I had planned on continuing for a couple more chapters, but this feels like a good jumping off point. Let me know what you guys think :) Thanks!  
_


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